Wallflower
by PandoraxBakaNeko
Summary: Let's get one thing straight, Elliot Nightray may be musically gifted, but surely enough he isn't the most patient piano tutor in the world. Will an unlikely and clumsy romance blossom between a tragically unmusical and stubborn introvert of a girl and a short-tempered, foulmouthed scion of the Nightray house? (ElliotxOC)
1. 001

**Warning: **Mild-language and fail humor.

* * *

**W** **A** **L** **L** **F** **L** **O** **W** **E** **R**

**CHAPTER 01: **

"_The Introvert and the Jerk"_

* * *

Another day to arise.

Another day to gain a headache.

Another day to complain, mope, and listen to the professors' blabbering.

Another day in _the _prestigious Lutwidge Academy.

Worst of all…

Another day to _talk _to people.

She was no less than to be an enrolled and a proud student of one of the outstanding academies in the country. Sadly, she didn't even feel like one. To be specific, she felt like crap. It always felt the same somehow – restlessly every day when she'd wake up from an early morning, wondering when the bothersome year be over with or when will the crappy feeling falter.

With a palm under her cheek, her eyes lazily trailed off towards the rectangular, lustrous windows right next to her. She didn't really worry much about her music professor catching her for being inattentive in class because she was placed at the back seat. Actually, she didn't mind it all. Least attention meant least naggy people – that's all what she wanted anyway.

Most people may call her a quiet girl. Snob. Brooder. Loner. _Introvert_. Yep, it was true though, she was. Though being one served perks, one for instance was being an anonymity in class – free from the perils of bullies and blabbering – and second was not being mixed up with all the drama.

Though, on the other hand, her parents have thought that this "anti-social social behavior" of hers was becoming unhealthy and she was in dire need to be released from being home-schooled and sent off to boarding school to learn a lesson or two about _socializing_ because it was unfitting for a scion of a noble house to show such conduct.

It's not like Catherine Blanchette _wanted_ to be an introvert. It just happened. It wasn't like being shy or attaining a plain dislike for talking. No. She just didn't find conversations soothing for her taste. She preferred having her own personal bubble to herself, which made her feel free to think whatever she wanted to. It gave her a more fleeting emotion than talking.

As her gaze settled upon the azure sky, her green orbs caught a glimpse of her reflection. A small frown drew her lips. Her black hair has gotten quite longer now. She should get a haircut. She always hated it when it was too long or when it becomes tangled then turns into a nuisance, unlike her mother who was too fond of her long hair.

"Class dismissed." Said her music professor. Thank God! "Miss Blanchette, may I have a word with you." _What!_

Her frown deepened, but kept her usually stoic mask. "Catherine is fine, Sir Knightley."

"Miss Bla— Catherine, have you actually been participating in my class?" _Honestly, no._

"Yes." she lied.

He gave her a hopeless glance, but cast it aside as he took off his glasses. "By now, you should know that you – of all people – are failing my class. No, actually you have the lowest grade in my class, rather." Not again with this. She didn't want to be lectured how she's _that_ tragic in Music class.

"You know, you should consider what your parents will think when their only daughter doesn't even know how to play a simple musical piece in a piano correctly—" He added. And no doubt, every word he said was the truth.

Catherine never hated music in any form. Actually, she loved it. Loved it more than anything. But, in an unfortunate twist of fate, one may also consider her to be one of those tragic people who have no talent— actually, hopeless in the field of music.

Starting from the tender age of six…she flunked out almost every musical field she practiced. Her voice wasn't any good, she sucked at playing the flute, she snapped the strings of her violin whenever she played it— and not to mention, instead of music, she made ear bleeding screeching sounds, and she…was definitely terrible with the piano – the horror of that memory!

She remembered how her music instructors gave up on her, considering how she was drastically hopeless in every field in music. No matter how much her parents scouted for a better music instructor and how much money they were willing to burn, in the end, it was evident enough that she had no talent at all. It is a sad case for her, but for her parents – they didn't believe an ounce of it. They had high – really **high** – expectations for her of surpassing them and deluded themselves to believe that she just needed practice.

After all, she was just their only child, and on cue, they always expected much.

"— So I'm assigning someone to tutor you."

"W-wait, _what_!" the black-haired girl boomed. His usually serene face became bewildered as he saw her muddled – let alone, heard her yell, which was one of the things she rarely did in class or at any place as long as she remembered.

Clearing his throat, he stated once more, "I said someone is going to tutor you from my class. I believe, there is no need to fret about this. He is also at the same year as you, and with his outstanding skills in the piano, I am more than sure he has enough patience and skill to teach you how to master the piano."

As much as she didn't really want to have someone tutor her, she was left with no option. Purposefully, her parents were obviously responsible for making her exceed in piano. She answered ruefully, "Fine."

"Prepare for tomorrow at the music room, 5 o'clock sharp. Dismissed."

"_Right_." she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes in disbelief. A sigh coursed through her lips. _I just wonder how much patience will be left of that tutor…_

* * *

It had been another day of toil from the perils of studying and listening to same old lectures from his professors. He believed he deserved a break from all that stacked knowledge being shoved in his mind, and definitely an adequate amount of time in the Music room. He was fortunate that this school still had a piano…a gorgeous grand piano at that, like back at home.

But time for creating another musical piece was essential…more essential than the bore he called _studying_. As well as, reading his choice of books such as the venturous and extraordinary tales from Holy Knight. Yes, he _really_ deserved time for those activities. Scribbling notes and playing the school's piano does not necessarily already make a perfect sonata. It requires attention and time. That was what the torturing musical genius, Elliot Nightray, had thought.

His blue eyes glared upon the ivory wall with an unfazed face and crossed arms. The young Nightray laid at the furniture – the usual laid back position he preferred. Trouble aroused his mind and it didn't please him one bit. That piece he performed earlier wasn't satisfying…the beat was too brash and rhythm didn't possess the calm and tranquil sound he wanted.

It wasn't right. All of it wasn't right! With a vexed growl, he tightened his hands into iron fists. He needed time…time to create a musical score, a beautiful and perfect one. It annoyed him that he'll somehow have to write another composition from scratch – yet again.

"Hey, Elliot," said his subdued servant.

Not bothering to tear away his staring contest with the wall, he replied snappishly, "What?"

"You have a letter." Leo pressed the cream-colored envelope within his fingertips.

"From who is it?" the harsh tone from his voice – that was the product of his unpleasant afternoon – didn't fade away.

"From Sir Knightley."

"The Music teacher?" He added. "What does he want now?"

Unfolding the crisp envelope, through his round glasses, he saw a fine stationary imprinted with news that one may consider something to be good. But gave a small frown in return, would his impatient master really come to accept responsibility for this. Indeed, he _is_ qualified in this field and, no doubt, his skills are without peer…but he has also thought of a worst case scenario – if Elliot manages to leave the one his tutoring frightened from his unstable temper.

"You're going to tutor someone in piano." He stated.

"Leo— wait, _what_!"

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for giving it a shot and reading. Please tell me your thoughts in your reviews.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pandora Hearts.


	2. 002

**Warning: **Mild-language and fail humor.

* * *

**W**** A L L F L O W E R**

**CHAPTER 02: **

"_Everything always starts from a little feud"_

* * *

Elliot Nightray.

_The_ Elliot Nightray. The Elliot Nightray that is one of the scions of the Nightray dukedom – _the_ Four Dukedoms to be exact. The Elliot Nightray as in the one with the foul temper and the scurrilous language. The one with the bad air wherever he goes. The _same _one, who was rumored, to have a death glare enough to send you home, crying for your mommy's name. _That_ one.

Is Sir Knightley serious?

"Damn brush." Catherine sent a harsh whisper to herself. She was left in a rather crude hour, left inside her quarters with a useless hairbrush and irking snarls at the ends of her dreadful hair. Long hair was a _bitch_ – she believed. With her fingers curled up at its handle, she endeavoured to comb her hair with ferocity.

It was quite peculiar of her to pursue on straightening her flyaway hair with a heated determination. She never really bothered herself with looks and such and yet this day somewhat forecasted the opposite of it. Maybe, it could have been because of _today_. In honesty, she wasn't really troubled about the piano tutoring, but the tutor. Despite being a person hidden behind everyone's shadow, she was self-conscious in first impressions.

Scratch that, she'll be meeting a _guy_. No doubt, she had no experience with the male species, but most certainly meeting a guy for the first time explicitly sent butterflies in her stomach. Not to mention, it was no ordinary spoiled teen from Lutwidge, but a kin from the Nightray house. It was _the _Elliot Nightray. Personally, she has never really seen him in person nor met him before, but she had heard of him from rumors. Actually, there's a list of them:

#1: "He has a horrendous temper. Get him angry and all hell gets loose or either way he guts you with his sword."

…_he has a sword, huh. Is he a psychopath?_

#2: "He'll kill you with one glare. You'd be lucky to live to tell the tale."

_Not very friendly, too…_

#3: "He's not only quick to blow up, but he's also foulmouthed."

…

#4: "He clobbered a guy once who tried to pick a fight with him and sent him to the hospital for months."

_Shouldn't he be expelled for that?_

#5: "He'll scare you shitless."

_Is he a monster then?_

He's frightening, he's intimidating, he'll kill you on the spot, he'll do this and he'll do that, and the list goes on, apparently. Well, who knows? She wouldn't be really that gullible to believe those rumors that spread about. But, whether he's a psychopath or not, she's still nervous as hell. With a final stroke from her hairbrush, her green pools glared at the mirror with slight confidence, despite the endless churning of her stomach.

_He's just going to tutor me, that's all. So stop acting all nervous. _Exhaling deeply, she patted her skirt and tucked a strand of hair off her face, then darted out of her room. Apparently, no matter how she lectured herself a million times to _calm down_, there was no trouble in that part for her exterior, but deep inside her stomach whirled disgustingly, twisting her guts into wringed knots. It also peeved her a bit that she was so concerned because of a _guy_. _Get over it, coward. _

Finally recognizing a familiar-looking aperture, she knew it was the Music room. After encountering rows of mahogany doors, all she had to do was knock…and walk inside, right? She sucked air through her teeth and counted down to ease her timorous heart…_1…2…3…_Softly pounding the door, she silently – nervously – stepped inside in high hopes of not humiliating herself.

"Hello?"

Whether if it was either out of sheer luck or was it off from odd instances, there was no sign of him – or in any case, any human being in the room. It was empty. Nothing but the lacquered piano and maybe few chairs and cabinets…let alone, everything was hardly touched out of its place. _Did I come too early, perhaps? _She thought and glared at the grandfather clock, standing in proudness.

With a slam in her forehead, she was. Taking a seat next to the piano, she waited in patience and shaken anticipation of his arrival. Still waiting, Catherine occupied her tedious mind with his appearance…thinking what face could he had have, since rumors spread as if he was a feared being. Was he freakishly tall or was he even shorter than her? His face…did it have a look that everyone seemed to describe: intimidating, strong, and…monstrous? – from the males that seemed to despise him – and…handsome? – from the females who seemed to admire him.

Confusing. It felt like poking her head with needles once she had this unimportant debate she had in her mind if he was either _monstrous _or _handsome_. Damn, why did she even think of that topic? Though this was mildly frustrating, it gave a fair share of curiosity. Then if he was equivalently a grotesque monster and a dashing hero…what would that make him?

A good person with a frightening temper, perhaps? The black-haired girl hoped she got that right, at least.

Still, her situations sucks. She was in the room, hoping for a person to appear any time soon. This time, her timid act slowly dispersed as wasted minutes come to pass. She just wanted to get this over with. The day was growing darker and no matter how her mind screamed for her to leave, she remained silently and obediently. For a moment out of boredom, her fingers played the piano but resulted to attain a drastic noise. _Noise_!

Later on, she took a nap…maybe, he did something.

_He couldn't have forgotten, couldn't he?_

* * *

Her lidded green eyes opened. There was nothing. Nothing but the dark and the grand piano right next to her. Despite her tired composure, she was, no doubt, aggravated. As expected of a spoiled jerk in the school, she knew better than to expect much. Maybe, he was also like _them_. Ditching and toying with an introvert like her just because she had looked like some sort of mindless school girl.

Alright, he maybe didn't know who she was or maybe he had forgotten something, but at least, he should have tried to go back or maybe, bothered giving some sort of excuse that he was busy if she was going to lounge around, hardly learning playing the piano!

A small grunt emanated from her discontent lips as she exited away. Irking. This was irking.

So much for first impressions.

* * *

A day passed. Catherine had no intention on burning her expectations to the ground so she planned on arriving late. It wouldn't really hurt. He'll wait and get ticked off himself for his own coldly served karma. At least, she was _kind _enough to still attend. Well, it would depend if he arrived at all.

She made a small detour to the library. The _library_ of all places. It would have been peculiar of her but for a person who reads much literature herself, she didn't really went to the sanctuary of books quite often. Then again, she wouldn't mind. It was quiet and people minded their own business. And for the best part, it came unused. Not many earnest students always went here. Let alone, if any rich kid were here, they would slack off and consider this place as some sort of hang out. Plus, they considered books a bore. _Inconsiderate bums._

Tapping her heeled shoes, she marvelled herself into a labyrinth of abundant books. Her green orbs would gawk at every spine of literature, standing with refinedness and undisclosed awe. Magnificent – was one word to describe it. Not a single speck or grime tainted its pristine, hard-bound covers, exposed to its leathery glory. Without a doubt, she knew most of the books herself – they were mostly requested by her when she sat alone in her chambers before Lutwidge.

_Cries of Liberty _

_Lost Pendulum_

_The Merchant and the Spy from Dustan_

_The Philosopher's Stone_

Brushing off one book from its place, it did not occur to her that she had pulled out a fairy tale. A familiar child's story at that. Her eyes would gently close as the crisp, musty scent of the old pages gave her a lingering memory of nostalgia. Hushed whispers of her mother's voice gave a light feeling in her chest…those days when she was read every night about fairy tales.

_One Small Step. _It was a light-hearted tale about a cursed princess who cannot walk. A tale which gave her inspiration in heart.

Her slender hand still clamped at the book unconsciously, her eyes landed towards an endless row of royal blue coated books with the same title, written in bold, black calligraphy. _Holy Knight._ She _knew _the series and it was popular no doubt. Everyone, even the uninterested students distinguished it from its famous crest. A breath-taking series, swimming in a sea of wondrous praises.

She once read the series, up until its 20th volume, but she stopped there at one point because…"…I never liked this series at all."

"What is so…unlikable about this series?"

"E-eh?"

Her head followed the voice of its owner only to see a young adolescent, such as herself, standing behind her with his face baffled and frozen. Odd. No guy ever asked her opinion before. From a distance she couldn't tell if he was tall or short, but at least she could take a better look of his face. His beige hair was styled in a tussled fashion. Though its natural color was rare, it gave limelight for his sapphire-like eyes. Blazing. Strong-willed. Slightly intimidating. Eyes bounded in pure nobility and self-belief, no restraint whatsoever – so she analyzed.

Since he asked, there was no harm in replying. "I-I guess that the plot is just so…bland and the stereotypical type." If she continued, would he agree? With a bit of confidence, she spoke, "Yes, there's adventure and friendship in the genre, but it certainly lacks something and I'm pretty sure that there is a line of adventure and friendship books ready to rival this one— or rather, there is no need for it to be rivalled considering the fact that the book itself is being extinguished by better books. It's a classic but it's just…_boring_."

The young lad's face dropped. Ripped. Disheartened. Aggravated? "B-Boring!" he boomed his voice, willing enough to fight for his most beloved book. "What the hell is so boring about Holy Knight? The plot is flawless and the characters are well-developed! The book is without peer! Have you even _read_ the book?" he replied questioningly.

Her eye twitched. _He _asked in the first place so there was _no need _for acting so offensive about it. Though, in a peculiar twist, something roared like crackling flames within her…she _didn't _like the series. And she wanted to prove him why it was so repugnant for her. Yep, she was an introvert but it was, in no means, that she was coy in any way. "I…I beg to differ! And mind you, I've already read all the 20 volumes of Holy Knight and stopped there!" she proclaimed with all the fiber in her being.

"I don't understand the main protagonists, making irrational decisions! Edwin cutting his hair for social points and Edgar dying – to me, it's just so unreasonable! If I have to pick one character there, then it would be Marquis Klein!" the very oblivious statement itself made Elliot withstand this absurdity she spoke of. Ludicrous. Insolent. _Is this woman serious?_

"Marquis Klein is the main antagonist, you idiot!" he rebuked.

A snort came as her response. "Well, at least, unlike the _stupid_ protagonists, Marquis Klein may be a villain, but a very clever one at that. Despite all odds, his plans were brilliant and using Count Gorey all along was genius! You're practically a diehard fanboy who just won't admit it!" Ouch. So the saying goes, _apply cold water on burnt area_.

His eye twitched. A vein might have even popped. _This girl _was annoying. _Vexing. _Stretching his limb, he took hold of the book she held. Women – when it comes to them, they always read the same cliché saccharine romance novels. It opposed his love for chivalrous tales of knights and leaps of adventure. And no doubt, she _was_ no other than a girl with soft spot for those types. "What are you reading anyway? Is this just another romance-themed—"

This was not what he expected. "_One Small Step_. A fairy tale?" he _knew _the aged fable. It was an old classic favored by his elder sister in their juvenile days. A _love_ story.

"And you _chose _a _fairy tale _over Holy Knight. Your taste in books must have gone bland."

"W-what? I accidently stumbled onto the book, you jerk!" she added defensively, snatching the book in her arms. The nerve of him! "And moreover, the books I've read surely are _better _than your most treasured Holy Knight!"

The young Nightray retorted, chaffed, "Che. I beg to differ."

"You take that back! Holy Knight is at the cornerstone of plunging to the ground!" she exclaimed, pointing her slender index finger to prove her point.

"It is not— _never_!"

"Yes, it _will_!"

"It will not!"

"It will!"

The pair both snarled, "**You—!**"

_He's a jerk! _

_She's an idiot!_

A moment of unnerving tension.

Though silent as they were, their eyes betrayed their actions. Blazing sapphires colliding against unshaken emeralds. Her nails were digging underneath her palms. His teeth was clenched in a fit of rage. The pair wore grim frowns, never taking their death glares off of each other. A red flag raised and they knew what it meant. This was never really the best encounter, wasn't it?

Ah, still it was childish. Like toddlers fussing.

He was about to open his mouth. She was about backlash him with a retort. They were both interrupted when—

"Before you two continue, would you mind it if you do it outside? Unfortunately, both of you aren't the only people in the library." The silent lad undermined the awaited agitation. And no doubt, he was right. Catherine popped her eyes open in realization. Yes, the library is open for late hours but it didn't occur to her that there were still some students who visited it. Now their attention was caught by them – their eyes in anticipation and their mouths were in no end of ever chattering.

"L-Leo!" muttered her new foe.

Leo was an odd chap. He appeared young, no less than to be the same or slightly older than the young Blanchette, but albeit his age, he was a calm, respectable, and wise fellow. Not really from the bunch where the Holy Knight fanboy came from. Yet his guise made him look unpleasant. His raven hair was a spun mess, all strands were in all the strange places. The big, round glasses concealed his eyes – a mystery never known.

His fingers flipped a page with fluidity. His attention hooked at the book he fancied, not even sparing one glance at the bickering pair. He was perched at the floor that appeared to be his favored spot for reading than the unoccupied chairs and tables. "Elliot, starting a fracas on an impulse is unbecoming, especially to a girl."

"She was the one who started it!" he claimed.

The black-haired girl tapped her shoes in irritation, her arms crossed. She wasn't deaf! She was just right next to him and she could _hear _him, for goodness sake! _Real mature, Elliot. _This Elliot person is _really _getting in her nerves.

Elliot?

Didn't that sound familiar?

"Yet who was the one asked for her opinion and the one who rudely discouraged her thoughts upon not attaining a wanted response?" Another blow to Elliot's dignity. She had to hand it, Leo was getting the upper hand – not to mention, how cool he was lecturing the poor jerk. Elliot: 0; Leo: 2.

The young Nightray huffed. "Damn, alright I get it!"

"Go apologize to the girl," he said nimbly. "Like a refined gentleman."

A sigh escaped his lips as he looked at her, trying his best to keep his cool. "…sorry…" an awkward apology.

"Are you happy now?" he voiced his grievance to his seemingly subdued servant. It appeared that his peculiar behavior swapped with his prissy one – she noted.

"Is there anything to be happy about when the servant of a scion of the Nightray house behaves so crudely?" Leo stood and returned the unfinished book to its rightful shelf, still scolding. "Shame, and when I thought I was guiding you properly."

Now it hit her, Elliot…Elliot _Nightray_. That…jerk is her tutor then. Oh ho ho, he has a lot more coming than a sermon from his servant.

"Leo, stop acting like—"

"_You're_ Elliot Nightray?" Catherine said with an unpleased octave. "_You're_ the ditching jerk who was supposed to tutor yesterday and left me hours waiting at the music room! Ha! Now, here's a good idea, never show your face to me again!" she walked away grudgingly.

What's with her all of a sudden? "Where do you think you're—!" without warning, he planned to stop her for an explanation, but got thrown with a book in the face. Real hard. Not the best thing to do to a girl who's in a foul mood. "Why that—"

A hand wringed his shoulder. "Elliot, calm down. It's pointless trying to pick a fight." The valet advised calmly. "And besides, she's just a girl."

_Just a girl _he says. "An annoying girl who's pissing me off!" he corrected, awfully pissed. "Who does she think she is throwing a book at me and blabbering that crap about me tutoring her!"

"Well, you did deserve it."

"Whose side are you on, Leo? And how come I deserved that?" his question posed more like an order as he spoke of it rather brusquely. He wanted an answer about why it seemed like everyone hated him for something he didn't do in the first place.

"You're supposed to tutor her in piano and yet you stood her up." Leo responded.

"Tutor?" then it clicked. His blue eyes widened in disbelief. All along she and that tantrum she made…"You mean that's today!"

"Did you even read the letter I gave you?" he sighed of his master's hopelessness. "Idiot."

"Hey, if you knew all along, why didn't you tell me!" demanded Elliot.

"I thought you read the letter." The servant explained. "You apologize to her again tomorrow, alright?"

"Che."

"_Elliot_."

"Alright, alright, I get it! I'll apologize to her, okay?"

"Good."

* * *

**A/N: Was it good or was bad? Damn, I wish no one was OOC and I hope the story is Mary-Sue free. Please review after and thank you for giving it a shot! I hope the next chapter isn't so disappointing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pandora Hearts**


	3. 003

**Warning: **Mild-language and fail humor.

* * *

**W**** A L L F L O W E R**

**CHAPTER 03: **

"_The most impatient piano tutor in the world!"_

* * *

Afternoon dawned. An orange glow painted the slowly residing day, arousing the night's reign. Though in the midst of this period of time, the sun's proud beams never showed signs of faintness but revealed its true bright glory as it sunk with pride under the rebellious wisps of clouds. Then again, afternoon did not only give beautiful sceneries or a past time of favor, but a day of rest.

Of course for a student's tale, a day of leisure and without the troubling peril of school, lectures, and homework gave a refreshing feeling that never strayed. Catherine liked this the most. A time with no school in the picture. A time for herself.

That is if she'll have one…

Rushed footsteps echoed through the corridors, whispers and common hearsays found an easy prey within the serene afternoon. "Now, she's going to get it!" grunted the unpleased Nightray heir. She just threw him a book for not attending this piano tutoring nonsense and now she had the gall to not show her face…did she really wish to witness his wrath?

"Elliot, calm down." Leo endeavoured, following behind his steps. The last thing he wanted was for his troublesome master to get into some pointless ruckus.

Grudgingly walking outside the campus, his peeved blue eyes caught a familiar black-haired girl calmly reading a book, sitting under a shady tree. Some part of Elliot wanted to throw a fit of how she looked so tranquil without any dilemma to vex her, unlike him who searched for her in every nook and cranny within Lutwidge. It pissed him. And revenge was something he preferred to be served cold.

"Blanchette!"

The introvert jerked at the sound of her surname. Though, what shook her was the voice that called her name. Damn it. "Nightray," she stated, baffled. "What do you think _you're_ doing?" she asked in an unwelcomed fashion as the beige-haired juvenile stood in front of her with an unsightly frown and crossed arms. Ha! Did she displeased him? Good!

"Get up," he ordered. "We're going to the Music room."

She simply huffed. "Go away." The only action she took was stick her nose at her unfinished book.

"If you don't get up, I'll do it by force." His warning threatened, the voice he held gave some unnerving feeling in her gut.

A retort escaped her lips. "Like you actually can."

Without any caution, his fingers clamped itself around her wrist, dragging her against her will. "H-hey! Let go!" she pried on wriggling her hand free from his grasp, but he was so intent of not releasing her until they've arrived to the said room. Was he really _this_ determined? "I swear, Nightray, if you don't let go, I'll throw this book at you with a permanent mark on your face!" _Is he even listening to what I'm saying? Jerk._

Catherine _knew_ he would throw a tantrum like this, considering how thin his patience is. Though some part of her made it clear that her action was immature, she didn't mind that fact at all— if he was going to idle all day without a care of teaching her, she can do the same a thing or two. She didn't like being played at, which was why it led her to believe Elliot Nightray was one of those spoiled, haughty bums. But it never occurred to her that she was _more than_ wrong.

Her green orbs noticed the crowd of astonished faces and it made no effort to see most of them already prattling. Did he even not take consideration of how he'll— _they'll_ be seen with this manhandling stunt of his? This was embarrassing! To be seen with a ruffian like him— she'll die from their rubbished palavers! So much for anonymity.

But for a moment, there was a faint pink that dusted her cheeks. Damn, why did he have to force her by _hand_! That jerk…

The door clinked – obviously shut by his tailing servant. And then silence.

Now she is seated in front of the piano, pouting in annoyance, while he stood behind her with a statuesque akin to a famous mentor.

"Play."

"What?"

"Play the piece."

"You didn't even teach me yet." _Is he serious?_

"Just play."

"By any chance, is that your favorite word, Nightray?" she ridiculed, only scrunching up his nose in an unimpressed manner.

He derided, "Are you going to whine all day or are you just going to do what I told you, Blanchette?"

Her frown deepened. Defeated. "Fine. But, you'll regret it."

Catherine exhaled deeply as she tried to recall those sober lessons. Her back straightened and placed her nimble fingers at the piano's keys, then played. She knew well that her green eyes sharply followed each note at the musical score, but how she played…there was no other word to describe her performance other than the word: horrendous. The music was off from its beat, and apparently, it seemed more like the sound strayed away from its piece. Such horrid playing.

"Stop," ordered her tutor with a sour look in his face. "You're dreadful."

"I told you so." She replied grimly.

"Let me see how you position your fingers." He said, leaning closer to see her hands. Like how she was told, she did what he asked.

"That's wrong. Your hand shouldn't be positioned like that, it makes the sound too lax and fainter when you play it. Do it like this." Her green orbs scrutinized his hand positioned at the lacquered instrument. Elliot's slender hand was sturdy, less tense, and expertly placed at the right keys while hers were placed too carelessly. As his lithe fingers pressed the keys, it produced a solid and more reformed sound that defeated her ill-defined performance. Maybe, Sir Knightley did not mistake about music being _h__is_ forte.

The black-haired girl tried to mimic his perfectly positioned hand and tried to follow his instructions about pressing the keys with the right quantity. "Press the key."

"Like this?"

She did what he ordered in anticipation of attaining good results, but alas she hoped too soon. "Too soft. Give it a little more effort."

There was once a saying about 'time flies when you're having fun', what happens when there was not an ounce of amusement in the beginning? Catherine was, no doubt, a victim of such fact. She was _miserable_. Her butt grew sorer as it was rooted to her seat, never being allowed to take a break or even allowed to stretch her legs. And her fingers were twitching in pain from the endless finger exercises and hopeless playing. It felt like hours, even though only few minutes have passed.

Elliot Nightray is – one may consider – a strict tutor. Patient is out of the question with _him _– an ambitious trait of his. What began as a slowly progressing day of lecture morphed into a never ceasing afternoon of clamor and puerility. Twilight appeared more hapless than it was.

"Are you trying at all!" growled the prissy Nightray.

Out of frustration, her fingers ceased following the musical score and pressed the keys brusquely, creating such monstrous noise. "I am if you just stop shouting!"

Chaffed, he simply stated with mustered patience, "Play the piece again."

She huffed but relived her boiling rage from a sigh. _Calm down, calm down. Just play and maybe, I won't see his face after. _Her fingers performed the piece, but a critic interrupted. "Lax finger positioning again."

A pause. Then, she continued.

"The sound's too soft."

She persisted, growing displeased.

"The beat's not right."

That was **it**. A protest escaped from her unsatisfied lips, "Will you cut that out!"

"I'm only pointing out your flaws!" he barked.

"You don't have to say it every time while I'm still playing!"

"How can't I when you're not even trying!"

"Maybe it's because you're a lousy tutor!"

"I'm the lousy tutor? Maybe _you're_ the stubborn student!"

Truth be told, Elliot Nightray had skill without peer, but his teaching skills were nothing compared to his talent. In short, he was very inconsiderate. "Alright then, if you're so _excellent_ at playing, why don't you play that piece perfectly for me!" a challenge drawled. Her green pools gave a cold, stern glare while his were unfazed with swelling agitation.

"Fine, I will!" he finished.

As she scooted away, the Nightray scion sat at the stool with all the becoming etiquette of an aspiring musician. There was not an ounce of sloven in his form. A figure of undisclosed passion and exalted prowess of music. As he performed the piece, he had played it with such awe and integrity. It was sublime. Superb. _Perfect_. How can such a foul-tempered juvenile create such dulcet, immaculate melody with his own bare hands? How can _he_ be considered as a _prodigy_? – she asked herself.

No doubt, she was baffled. Awestruck was a better word – yet she would not admit how amazed she was. It was flawless. He was a genius and for a moment, she felt fortunate in the presence of a portent being. But, at the same time, she drowned under the sea of defeat of confessing his prominence. Still, in front of her was the vulgar jerk that dared forced her in the Music room, who had no consideration for a tragically-ungifted student like her, _and _her new foe.

Dusk reigned the sky and it was this late for the pair to persist in the perimeter.

The fatigued Blanchette stated dully, "It's late. I have homework to finish." _Is there even time for homework?_

"Come back here tomorrow. I'm hardly done with you yet." He ordered sternly, not showing his weariness.

"Whatever."

A threat countered. "I'm not going to drag you here again, Blanchette."

"Like I care, Nightray." With that, she left a very unsatisfied adolescent.

* * *

A door slam punched a hole to the silence.

Leo knew who it was, and unfortunately, it appeared he was in his most unscrupulous form. "How did it go?" he passed by him, not bothering on answering his question. Another slam boomed at his quarters. "Bad then." Commented the ignored servant.

From the start of their hapless encounter, Elliot already had the intuition that their relationship will start as fruitless as possible. And, no doubt, he was correct. He didn't like her rotten personality one bit – maybe, he did deserve the grudges she nailed on him – but, there was no reason to act like a prissy – does he dare say the word – _bitch_. She was terrible with everything. Then and there, he began to wonder if she even learned from him one bit. Probably, not – if it was _her_.

Regret soon panged at the bottom of his gut. The only reason he agreed with this was for the sole reason of having complete access to the Music room whenever he wished, and of course, a boost in his academics. Good thing Leo was persuasive in talking Sir Knightley into it. But, now he understood why he had teach the stubborn introvert and had to man up for taking the risk. _Damn her…_

* * *

The Blanchette scion sprawled herself all over bed with an exasperated sigh. She did not care whether she still had her uniform on or if she is even undone with all her assignments. She wanted to go to bed. "What a long day!" she mumbled with clear grogginess and less appreciation with what had happened for today's events. Her hand covered her forehead, enduring an arousing headache. _Screw you, Nightray…_

* * *

Three days have passed and the never-ending cycle of torture in piano lessons have yet to cease.

Catherine sighed. "What I don't understand is how someone like _you_ manage to find me." Ever since the first – dreadful – day of tutoring dawned, the next days have been like utter hell. After class, the spiteful Nightray heir came to retrieve her for the lessons. In most times, she tried her best to hide from him – even entering in prohibited areas – but like a bloodhound on its lead, he found her in all of her secrete places and dragged her in the Music room, unwillingly, of course.

Elliot puffed his chest with his proud crossed arms. "You're not very good at hiding." He noted.

She mocked guessingly, "Ah, a stalker then?"

"Why would I even stalk someone like _you_!" there was faint red in his cheeks as he burst in a fit.

He wasn't really good in a fresh battle of the wits, isn't he? "Then you _do_ stalk?"

"I do not!"

With a small smirk, she taunted, "You know, if you get angry you become twice as stupid then you already are because you lack oxygen in the brain."

"At least, I'm not as incompetent in the piano." Elliot retorted, pleased he undermined her folly.

A sneer was released by her frowning lips. "That's because you can't even teach!"

"You don't even learn!" he corrected crudely.

"Will you two be quiet!" interrupted an unpleased valet. "Thank you."

Her green orbs was a little surprised from the servant's sudden outbreak. He must have found them unbearable, which was understanding in a way. Though once he did peered in her mind, she was reminded of how – through the following days – he always chased after his master and left the both of them in this room in privacy. This was the only time she managed to talk to him. "And, by the way, pleasure to meet your acquaintance." A hand roamed his chest humbly.

"As do I." she replied politely.

"I am Leo. Your tutor's servant." He introduced himself.

"I am Catherine Blanchette and," though some part of her was curious of him, she wanted to ask the kind fellow about it. "I could not believe you're _his_ servant. How do you tolerate with him?"

Surprised and somewhat pleased, he answered, mustering the strength to not laugh. "He is _completely_ intolerable, Miss Catherine, but I manage." Despite their cheeky start, the pair ignored the furious aura that surfaced around them – Elliot, of course, did not find their conversation very peachy at all.

With an annoyed look, he finally spoke, "What are you doing here, Leo?"

"Maybe instead of bickering all afternoon, you two can take a break," explained the subdued servant. "I can make tea, if it's alright?"

"Tea is fine."

"How about you Miss Catherine?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't like tea," Tea. No matter what, she just…_didn't _like it. It was peculiar for her, who grew in a life filled with trifling social balls and tea parties, to not admire such a thing or grow accustomed to it. It was not really because of its bitter taste or the fact that it had tasted like some sort of concoction of hot water and dried leaves, but it was because of the awfully overwhelming taste that scalded her tongue. Call her a child, but no one can persuade her to love it. "But if it's not troublesome, may I have coffee?"

The jerk flouted, "Ha! You can't even withstand tea. Are you some sort of child?"

_Feeling cocky, are we? _"Oh, but tea doesn't really make a man any smarter, right Nightray?" she twitted in mirth.

"Hmph."

"Alright, I'll leave you two then." Said Leo as he left to prepare their beverages.

* * *

His tone was still in its most bitter sound. "And by the end of the day, you're still terrible." Success with this one was beyond his reach. Unteachable woman.

"Thanks for being so inconsiderate." Sarcasm dripped in her words.

"Blanchette, practice," he dictated with a menacing voice. "And don't bother not showing your face tomorrow."

"I can practice, but I don't mind not showing my face to yours, Nightray." She scoffed.

"Don't you dare hide."

A smirk danced in her lips. "Did you really think I actually cared?"

_I hate him._

_I hate her._

* * *

**A/N: My gosh! I have 4 reviews! Thank you for those who favorited and followed my story! As well as the reviewers! It helped me a lot ^_^ Thank you very much! Please continue supporting!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pandora Hearts**


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